Cookies
by Selwyn
Summary: Angel's POV one year after Sunnydale fell into the Hellmouth.


TITLE: "Cookies"  
  
AUTHOR: Charlie/Selwyn29  
  
EMAIL: selwyn29@ntlworld.com WEBSITE:   
  
DISCLAIMER: They're not mine, they're Joss's, I'm just making them feel better. PAIRING: B/A  
  
TIMELINE: After the end of Buffy Season 7  
  
SPOILERS: Anything is possible... say all, up to B7/A4  
  
SYNOPSIS: It's been running around my head for a while, it's what I would like to happen.  
  
FEEDBACK: I live off it (  
  
RATING: PG CONTENT DEDICATION: To everyone who still has hope! The good news is, writing this has given me some inspiration for finally finishing Breaking Down the Walls!  
  
The calendar page tore from its bindings and fluttered on to the floor.  
  
A year.......  
  
12 months since she had been gone.  
  
365 days since he had last set eyes on her.  
  
8760 hours since he had last spoken to her.  
  
525,600 minutes since he had touched his lips to hers.  
  
He smiled inwardly, 240 or more years he had spent on this planet, yet one year mattered so much. One person mattered so much.  
  
He had shut his mind and feelings off to her for so long. Ever since he had moved to LA, moved away and broken both their hearts, it was better not to feel, better not to think. Not of lazy days spent lying in one another's arms, dark nights spent patrolling together. He had put together a convincing act that being apart was the best for both of them. Even kidded himself for a while. The contact between them had been rare and fleeting and the feelings that were kicked up could be repressed quite easily. She had a life in Sunnydale, he had responsibilities in LA. She needed to live a normal life; he needed to wait out the nights in darkness. She needed someone who could take her into the light; he needed someone he could drag into the void. But it had all changed at that last fight. As if something inside of him had woken once more. The second he had seen her again, it all came crashing down.  
  
He had loved her before she was 16, when she was sweet, innocent and naïve, before she was called, before she became the Slayer. He had loved her as she had grown-up, as she was learning and training. He desperately wanted to protect her from all the horrors she would have to face, but then he became one of them, and he realised that to love her, he would have to leave her.  
  
But when he set eyes on her that final night in Sunnydale, he marvelled at what she had become. Rather than grow apart in the years they had spent away from one another, they seemed to have grown into one another. He could still see the beautiful girl she had been, but that was over-shadowed by the incredible woman she had become. The power radiated off her, she knew what she was, what she was capable of, a perfect combination. And finally he knew, without a doubt that he wanted her, that he wanted his life to be with her. No more waiting, no more doubts, no more protecting.  
  
The second their lips had touched every bottled up emotion had resurfaced and surged through them, the moment she wrapped her arms around him and gently played her tongue against his, he had feared for his soul. The heady sensation had not left him. Not when he had smelt his childe on her, not when she had admitted to loving Spike, not when she explained she wasn't baked yet, for she had given him a small ray of hope, given him the chance to make everything right again. She had given him 'sometimes'.  
  
She had left with Giles, the day the Hellmouth had collapsed, travelled to England to try and salvage what might be left of the Watcher's Council. Wesley had been in touch with the older watcher every now and again and had told Angel that Giles and Buffy had put Dawn into a good school and were travelling with Willow and Faith to find the other Slayers across the World.  
  
Angel walked to the back of his office and opened a cupboard door, he reached up and to the back right and pulled a key out. He walked back across to his desk and unlocked the bottom drawer.  
  
Resting in the drawer were many different items from different countries. Wesley didn't need to update him as to where the Slayer was, he always knew. About a month after she had left Sunnydale, the packages had started to arrive in the post, no note, no message, just an item, sometimes it was food, sometimes a trinket, sometimes a picture but almost every week there was something, letting him know where she was, it was building up to be quite a collection.  
  
He never spoke to anyone about it, never let anyone see into the drawer. He knew Spike was snooping about his office at nights, that was the problem with a ghost, there were very few places they couldn't get in, but if Spike knew about the items he never said, and Angel knew enough of his childe to know that he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to mock him.  
  
But now a year had passed since she had left and there had been no parcel for a month, nothing to tell him she was still there, still thinking about him. And he couldn't stop thinking about her. If Cordelia had been around, she would have teased him about having his 'Buffy face'. The thought of Cordelia made a flash of guilt grip his body for a second, but then it passed. She had been gone for over a year now, and although he missed her friendship that was all he had come to realise it had ever been. There had always been a piece missing in his life, but the only one who fit was Buffy.  
  
He couldn't stay brooding in the office forever, someone was bound to come along and find him. It was easier to go out patrolling, like they used to do in Sunnydale, get rid of stress and tension. He picked up his leather jacket and walked out of the door, heading for the sewers.  
  
It was dark when he returned. His clothes were damp, a small cut had appeared above his eyebrow and was bleeding slowly. His hands were bruised and his legs ached from the exertion. The offices were in darkness, silence wrapping around him as he walked through. He pushed open the door to his own room and walked inside. Directly in front of him, placed on the edge of his desk was a box. He cautiously walked over to it, and pulled off the cardboard lid. Six perfect cookies lay inside. He inhaled deeply and smelt the chocolate and peanut butter filling. A small card was nestled inside the box, he gently picked it out and read the words.  
  
"I'm done...."  
  
He turned the card over in his fingers, to see if there was any clue as to where it had been sent from, at that point he would have willingly travelled to Antarctica in a heartbeat if it meant he could see her. But the card was blank.  
  
A noise behind him made him stiffen slightly. All his senses exploded as he felt the familiar tingling sensation creep across his body. The calming scent of vanilla and strawberries took over the chocolate and peanut butter. He turned round, and the sight in front of him made him feel like the schoolboy he had once been. His eyes roamed up and down, and drank in every curve and sweep of her body. She was older, but with every day seemed to have become more beautiful, to have grown more and more into her body. He daren't even blink in case she vanished again, he just wanted to emblazon the image of her into his head.  
  
"Well at least tell me you're glad to see me." She broke the silence.  
  
He walked across the room in two steps and stood in front of her. He reached one hand up and brushed a piece of hair away from her face. His hands clasped each of her cheeks gently and tilted her face up to his. His thumbs lightly traced circles across the skin.  
  
"Isn't it customary to kiss someone, in a situation like this?" She asked.  
  
"I don't know what to do." Angel whispered. "Because if you are going to leave again, then this is the kiss I am going to remember for the rest of my life, and I don't know if anything can live up to that."  
  
She looked deep into his eyes, and for one of the first times, saw the vulnerability of the man who lay beneath the champion.  
  
"Then let me make the decision this time." She whispered, reaching up to brush a hair away from his forehead, her fingers lightly touching the rapidly healing cut above his eyebrow. Her fingers trailed down the side of his face, and she pulled his lips closer to hers, so close he felt her breath as she whispered.  
  
"I love you, Angel. You are my strength and my hope and I'm yours, however long you want me." She pulled his head closer to her and kissed him gently on the lips.  
  
He let himself fall into her embrace, and lost himself for a moment, teasing and pulling at her mouth, his tongue gently searching out hers. Then he broke apart from her, and took a step back, his eyes once again roaming her face. Buffy held her breath, the wait seeming like eternity. And then he spoke.  
  
"How's forever? Is forever good for you?"  
  
THE END I miss you at dusk, in the borderland between day and night, for you are the fire that banishes all my fear of darkness. 


End file.
